dualisnet | TEXT: Day after the Festivities

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TEXT: Day after the Festivities

Username: dpdhank@dualislink

My name is Hank Anderson, I'm a patrol officer with Dualis's police. I think I met a few people at the Dualis Days festival, many of them during the unfortunate opening ceremonies.

The police are conducting an official investigation but I want to conduct my own independent investigation. In my experience that usually solves cases a little more quickly. [That's how he and Connor made it as far as they did, superseding what was technically required of them. The end result was also the better result for the world, not the preferred result for the powers that be, too.]

I know some of you were close to the bombing. If you're interested and able to give me some information I'll be in the kitchen on floor six for the rest of the evening.

[Anyone that comes to find him will be lucky. For the moment he'll be listening to some jazz he loaded onto a music player and speaker he found in a thrift shop rather than metal. But you better believe when it's necessary he'll switch to metal if he has to. In the meantime he's also reading an actual paper book, a softcover novel that he was lucky enough to find.]

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[Mira's not really a technophobe. She just believes technology has animist spirits inside that will become offended and stop working if not properly propitiated. Because she's the only person in the city who thinks that, no one's left her any instructions on the appropriate rituals for her smartphone or her desktop...meaning she refuses to touch them and hasn't checked a single message since she got here.

The upshot being she's in the kitchen not to chat with Hank about the bombing, but to get herself a snack. She digs a fruit cocktail cup out of a cabinet and a fork out of a drawer and sits down at the table opposite him.]

Hello.

[Yes, he's reading, but it would be quite rude not to acknowledge him.]

[He's guessing by the fact that she goes after a snack in the fridge rather than stopping to chat that she's just hungry and not here to drop info, or pick up info or anything.]

Yeah, hey.

[He turns his book over, laying face down on the table and folds his hands on it.]

You uh, hear anything about the bombing?

[He tries anyway, even if it turns out futile.]

I was there, if that counts.

[Initially, more of her attention is on peeling back the fruit cup's lid without getting high fructose corn syrup everywhere than is on Hank, but once she's accomplished that, Mira looks back at him politely.]

[He huffs a grunting sigh, one of those noises someone makes when they're tired in more than just the way of being overworked or underpaid.]

Whoever did it had to be in the crowd. I know that for a fact. I've been trying to find out if anyone saw anything else. Sometimes people don't want their names or faces attached to a clue, so...

[There's still something about that 'Wake Up' that bothers him. Something that reminds him of Markus's words, just with a darker twist.]

There's more to it than I'm being allowed. [Being allowed being the operative word.]

["Tired on a metaphysical level" is something Mira understands so thoroughly she doesn't realize there's another state of affairs, and she chews her...whatever these fruits are with a sympathetic expression while she listens to Hank.]

The security arrangements were appalling. The perpetrators could have been anywhere, including on the other side of the city by the time the bomb went off.

I heard the other officers talking and had a look at the scene. The bomb had to be set off by someone nearby. They were in the crowd within sight of the stage. Well, maybe not the crowd, but there were no buildings close enough to let anyone clearly see when anything was happening to trigger at the right time. I don't think they could have handled everything. The security cameras around the area were shut down and that message played over all the broadcasting networks. That had to be someone different. But the person who set off the bomb? Had to be there. Right there, in the crowd.

But the other part you're right about. That crowd was a mess. Minimal exit points from the park, so everyone had to be channeled off into different streets.

[He smiles, tight-lipped and wide-eyed and frustrated.] And this reminds me of some stuff at home that really has me feeling like I won't get the whole story if I go ask people in a normal way, 'cause no one in their right mind would wanna sign their name to this shit.

A spotter with a scope on any of the surrounding rooftops or higher storeys could have done it. [Mira shrugs.] Regardless, that's a single person. If the conspirators have the least amount of sense, the one on-scene was expendable and knew nothing more than their immediate task.

[She's glad this isn't her responsibility to solve.]

You're with the police?

[Mira's native respect for authority and her utter horror of authority as it manifests in Dualis cancel each other out to a mostly neutral interest.]

Yeah, I considered that. But the bomb was homemade, the range couldn't have been great. Especially if you didn't want interference from other devices. Park was a good ten acres. And-

[He draws with his finger around the book he put down, plants his finger where the stage would be, which is where there is some sort of alien building on the book, and then settles into just looking at it.]

My first fucking week. Way to break me in, huh? Used to be with the Detroit Police Department, though. Last case I was working on was a case related to terrorism. Turned out to be more activism than terrorism. This bullshit definitely leans towards the latter. They wanted max damage with that device.

[She has no idea where Detroit is,* but in a galaxy with millions of settled planets, that's hardly unusual.

*Buried under a few thousand levels of the Imperial Palace. -Ed]

Really? A device with a yield that low?

[Mira pauses with a forkful of maraschino cherry halfway to her mouth, dubious. Hank talks like he knows his business, so she's willing to believe him, but by her standards, that was one sad explosion.]

Well, everything in this city is monitored. Purchases, street activity, everything. And most homemade bombs I know need chemical components that require buying either a surplus of cleaning materials, fuel, or fertilizer.

So my guess is that because there's not a big farming community in the city, whoever made the bomb had to scrounge for supplies in the most untrackable way possible. Fortunately for us, that's a bomb that didn't do as much damage as they wanted.

I think the bigger feat was the hacking, personally. But I'm betting the iterations were the ones responsible for checking that out. [He still has to look into that.]

There had to be some people that saw something that aren't too injured to give statements. [Then he has to admit.] Great convo to go with the fruit salad, huh?

Then they've secured their military-grade armaments properly, at least. Small mercies.

[Any talk of computers turns into Charlie Brown's teacher in Mira's head, and she's content to leave that side of things to the tech-priests.

Hank makes his oblique apology for the topic, and Mira snorts in amusement.]

I'm from Cadia. [And is still assuming most people here are likewise from the Imperium, so she doesn't expand on the statement.]

Edited 2019-06-22 19:50 (UTC)

Oh yeah. I'd say that might change, but I'm guessing protection on any higher level weaponry's gonna get enhanced for a long while. Any arms purchases are gonna get higher scrutiny.

[Hank squints in faint confusion, that thick brow furrowing up. So far? Lots of people from strange places. He's going to have to start remembering.] Guess you got one on me, too. I've not heard of that one.

[Mira reacts roughly the way a well-bred Englishwoman would have if someone had claimed never to have heard of London--baffled, but courteous about it.]

Cadia? Just outside the Eye of Terror? [Well, doesn't that sound like a lovely bit of real estate. Mira huffs out a sigh, not really expecting the prompt to work better on Hank than it has on anyone else.] Can everyone here be from outside the Imperium?

[Hank actually chuckles at that.]

Well, the one saving grace of being from a unique place is if you're caught in any unwanted social situations where you're expected to converse? You can throw some 'back where I'm from' shit out there and eat up the time.

That said, gotta love when you can name 'the Eye of Terror' as a massive location marker. We just got Lake Erie and that's nowhere near that impressive.

[Hank picks up his book again and flips to another page. He's put a couple of post-it-notes in there, and scribbles a quick "check janitors with access to commercial detonators", thinking of what she said about the military grade tech. Doesn't mean they couldn't steal and use lesser parts.]

I doubt most would find stories of Cadian life appealing.

[Mira's very dry as she takes another bite of her fruit cup. She's got her hometown pride, yes, but she knows damn well Cadia is a great place to be from. If she'd wanted to stay there, she wouldn't have volunteered for the Imperial Guard. Of course, that just gets you an all-expenses-paid tour of the worst war zones in the galaxy, but at least the Chaos Gods aren't breathing down your neck. Most of the time.]

None of our lakes are remarkable enough to mean anything to an offworlder, I'm afraid. The Eye of Terror is an astronomical feature. [Detroit must be in the middle of absolute nowhere if he doesn't know that.]

Same could be said of Detroit. I remember when a picture went viral when some asshole stole a whole porch. We're not quite to visiting astronomical features yet, though.

Hoping things get better.

[It's been a very long while since he had hope. Which is one of the things that sucks about leaving. He can't do anything to contribute to or further that hope.]

We're just now talking space colonization. Still too many home issues to invest much in it. [He's aware this probably makes him medieval to her, but he's doing his best with the bare basics he's got. And a lot of things still translate.]

Are you from the third millennium, too?

[Mira sighs, and for lack of anything better to do, eats more fruit cocktail. She's not fully convinced everyone isn't having her on, but it would be such a ridiculous lie to tell that she thinks they at least must believe it themselves, even if they're mistaken.]

I suppose that would explain why everyone's calling Terra "Earth."

That's probably because Terra is Latin. Earth is English. So English speakers are gonna use some sort of 'Earth' sounding word.

[Hank's not good with chemistry or technology, but he does love to read.]

Probably eventually went back to the dead language that's never gonna change so everybody had the same word.

Betting there's a translator happening or something that make both work. [Voice to text translators aren't too bad in his day, but he knows not too long ago a faulty one might have been telling her that the planet's name is 'Dirt'. He has no idea how these ones might be working if that's the case. Though he makes another note to himself. If you find a suspect, see if you can make him name non-Dualis locations.]

[Mira purses her lips. What kind of uneducated simpleton do you take her for, Hank?]

I know it's High Gothic. [Space Latin--the translation is doing its best.] Outside of poetry and the occasional oath, no one has called the planet Earth since before the Unification Wars.

[To her it's like going around calling England "Albion" in casual conversation.]

[Hey, he doesn't know what people have forgotten in... an indeterminate number of space years? Shit, how do light years even count into that. He's not even going to ask about time dilation.]

Ah, so not that far back then. Or at least not so much people fuckin' forgot it entirely. I'm actually pretty surprised.

[People like to ditch old ideas and old words.]

Does the sorta- well, it's not a language barrier, is it... [He wonders if it bothers her, but it at the very least seems like it makes her feel out of place.] I guess I could call it Terra or something when I'm talkin' to you. At least somebody'd be doin' it. [He's not entirely a dick and he has no horses in this race. It's all the same planet, A shithole by any other name would still stink.]

[Mira snorts softly but doesn't correct Hank's misapprehension about how many years separate the two of them.]

It's not as though I don't understand the word. [That comes out a bit sharp, and she sighs when she catches herself. A kindhearted gesture doesn't deserve that, and she continues more warmly.] I appreciate the thought, but it's not necessary.

[At this rate, only two people haven't talked to him sharply when they've first met since getting here. It's honestly karma for how he treated his partner in the beginning. Guess it's time to eat shit and accept that he deserves it.]

Well... I guess it doesn't matter too much here anyway. Not even sure where exactly this place is and I've never heard it clearly defined as 'Earth' or 'Terra' and all I can tell is that it's got kind of temperate weather so far.

And I'm not great with stars. So I couldn't tell you from the sky.

There are millions of habitable planets. [Mira shakes her head. Trying to identify a world by its sky is hopeless without a cogitator bank to churn through star maps for you.] This one isn't inside the Imperium, I can tell you that much.

There's usually has a default set of constellations, at least for the northern hemisphere. [Unfortunately a case has never given him a reason to learn them. He can remember basic middle school "Titan is a moon" but he wouldn't be able to point out Scorpius in the sky. There are some obvious things, though, like the presence of a big pole star.]

Eh, I guess maybe someone will figure it out. I got this finding these assholes to chip away at. You've given me some ideas I can use.

What if "these assholes" are right?

[Mira sets her mostly-empty fruit cup on the table, fork resting on the lip.]

We've no reason to trust the powers that brought us here against our will.

ac...tion?

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